


a good jest

by smithens



Series: ficlets, drabbles, & story collections [4]
Category: Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Canon Era, Gen, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 06:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6971341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithens/pseuds/smithens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Eagle of Meaux can faint at will; as a result, Jolllly is disconcerted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a good jest

**Author's Note:**

> from a Tumblr writing meme: 
> 
> prompt #38: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”
> 
> Short but sweet? My induction into the first circle of Sad Bini Hell, for brief, fleeting worry.

“And here, all our friends thought you were the sickly one between us, Jolllly,” Lègle says - his normally deep voice is breathy, but even though his eyes are now wide and he is beaming, Joly can feel his own heart’s pace increase, rather than slow. He touches the back of his hand to Bossuet’s smooth head. The skin isn’t clammy, so he then pulls it away; in addition, his face is no longer purple. Thank Heavens for that. From his contorted position in Joly’s lap, Bossuet laughs. “Well, I could come to after all - let us hope Fate does not take her revenge!”

Only but a few paces across the room, Courfeyrac is howling with laughter at them both - gaily, fondly, but still teasing. Even Feuilly, seated across from him, is trying and failing to conceal a small smile.

Joly can admit that it was indeed a good jest; it is quite true that he would not have expected Lègle to collapse on top of him at random. Still, he chokes out, “you fool, you frightened me!”

“Oh, Joly! really, you must put that de Courfeyrac at fault-”

“Hold your tongue, Eagle of Meaux,” calls Courfeyrac, but when Joly looks back to him, he remains grinning.

If it was his idea, Joly thinks, he quite deserves it.

“At least know we did not intend to scare you, my friend,” Bossuet continues, “but even Feuilly has said you are not all here to-night, and if he speaks on your temperament then surely it is out of order! - right, Feuilly?“

With his head nearly beneath the table, Joly doubts Bossuet can see Feuilly’s exasperation - fond as ever - or his quick nod, but his confidence is reassuring.

Joly leans back in his chair and raises his knees just enough to jostle Lègle off of his lap - with surprising luck, his friend handles the kick with dexterity. In moments, he is once again standing, with his fallen hat back atop his head.

“But you… you fainted - on purpose,” Joly manages to say. Try as he might to sound accusatory, Bossuet’s coat is lopsided on his shoulders, his trousers are dusty from the floor, and his smile remains happy, and Joly cannot help but laugh. “Why! you fainted into my arms, Bossuet, and -” He brushes off his lap, and scrunches his face in the silly way he knows makes Lègle laugh - it is an immediate success. “you know! if you wanted my attention, you needn’t have gone to such extremes.”

At that, even Feuilly begins to chuckle; Joly senses his pulse returning to normal. Lègle is not suddenly ill after all, and he prides himself on his ability to take a joke.

He looks away to Courfeyrac, then back to Bossuet.

Who, adopting an air of drama typical to his antics, winks - and then bows deeply. Once again, his old hat falls to the floor.

What he said is quite true, Joly thinks, as everyone around him dissolves once more into laughter. For Bossuet to earn his attention, he only need be himself.  



End file.
